


take care of us, mama bear

by fantalaimon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Team Mom Ana Amari, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantalaimon/pseuds/fantalaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ana Amari will always do what needs to be done--to protect her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take care of us, mama bear

**Author's Note:**

> Ana pushed me into take make a brief fandom detour into Overwatch. I just kind of went for it; I don't really know what I'm doing with this. Hope you like it anyway?

"Looks like you’re back on my list, Ana.”

“What happened to you, Gabriel?” Her voice is blunted by exhaustion and grief.

In another life, she tells herself, he would have answered.

*

Angela often lingers in the doorway of whatever room Ana is in. Sometimes they speak softly about nothing, and sometimes they bare their hearts with silence.

*

“Of course you chose him,” Reaper says, spraying bullets this way and that ( _wasteful, graceless_ ). “Everyone chooses him.”

“I chose my _family_ ,” Ana spits, lunging for cover around the corner of a wall. “What did _you_ choose? What are you choosing now?”

“Death,” Reaper intones, advancing on her. “ _Justice_.”

“Grow up, Reyes,” Ana says, readying her weapon. “Come home before it’s too late.”

“Overwatch is over. You, Morrison, Ziegler, all those children--you are merely its death throes.”

Ana shoots him in the leg.

*

Soldier 76 is seconds from eliminating Reaper as a problem altogether when Ana ‘accidentally’ hits Gabriel with a booster.

“Why did you even shoot to begin with?” Jack demands later, nursing his broken arm. “I didn’t need the assist. I had him!”

Ana keeps her back straight, and Angela meets her eyes with with a look of agonized understanding.

*

“Not going to beg?” Reaper asks, shotgun pressed against Fareeha’s temple.

Strong, beautiful girl that she is, she doesn’t cry. “I used to call you Uncle,” she says. “I used to dream of being like you. I hope you _burn in hell_.”

“Gabriel,” Ana says. She keeps her voice steady. Clear. “ _Gabriel_.”

Reaper tilts his head.

“How long have we known each other? How many times did we fight together? How much did we share? I know that meant something to you.”

“None of it matters, Ana. It doesn’t change the truth, and it won’t save Pharah.”

“I loved you,” Ana says, and her heart aches but her voice does not waver. “I loved you as much as anyone. I sacrificed so much to protect you.”

“Not enough,” he says.

“Maybe,” Ana concedes. “But I do promise you now, Gabriel: If you hurt my daughter, I will look into your eyes as I put a bullet between them, and you’ll find no mercy to save you. No matter what it takes.”

In the end, Amelie Lacroix drags Gabriel from the warehouse, and Ana and Fareeha watch it turn to ash along with the three Talon agents still inside.

Fareeha buries her face in Ana’s neck, and Ana holds her daughter like a vice.

*

“I just wanted to do good,” Mercy says, her face streaked with soot and blood as she stands in the crater where D.VA died moments before. Hana has already crawled back out, is laughing with Lucio a ways a way. 

Ana is more in awe of these children with each passing day.

“I just wanted to help,” Angie whispers, sinking to her knees, and Ana sits with her in that pit until the rest of the team has long since scattered and the sky has turned dark.

“I want to go home,” Angie says, eyes turned to the stars.

Ana takes her hand. “So do I.”

They stay there a while longer.

*

“You think you’re so pure,” Widowmaker says, crouching and dripping blood. “You’re no different from me.”

Ana looks down at her. “I did horrible things to protect my family, Widow. I knew the choice I was making, and I never hesitated.”

“And what has become of your family now, Amari?” She sneers at Ana, violet lips curling back.

Ana pins Widowmaker with the gaze of her one good eye. Watching. Assessing.

“There’s no one here to protect, Ana,” Widowmaker says, staggering back to her feet. “What will you say to yourself tonight, to justify what you’re about to do? That it will prove better, in the long run? That I deserved it? That it _felt right?_ ”

“All of those things, I’m sure,” Ana says, shrugs, and fires.

Widowmaker’s eyes widen as her hand flutters to the tranquilizer embedded in her neck. She collapses with a dull _thud_.

“Sweet dreams, Amelie,” Ana says. She slings her weapon over one shoulder and Amelie over the other. She hums (a lullaby, one she used to sing to sing to Fareeha-- _for nightmares,_ she would always say) all the way home.

*

“I think we’re making progress,” Angela says, studying the output screen for one of the machines Amelie is attached to. Ana thinks her skin might look pinker now, but that could just as easily be wishful thinking. “It’s difficult to tell, without waking her up.”

“Are you certain this is something we ought to be keeping to ourselves?” Winston asks.

“If you want to tell Jack, no one’s stopping you,” Ana answers, raising an eyebrow.

Winston frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t want to tell him, but you must know Talon is bound to come looking for her.”

“I look forward to it,” Ana says, clapping her hands together. “Now, I think she’s probably slept long enough. Don’t you?”

*

 

“--Reaper.” Amelie’s accented voice crackles through the earpiece, cold as ever. Through the scope, Ana can see her, bound to a chair in an otherwise empty room. Just as they left her, excepting the smoke.

“Widowmaker,” Ana hears Reaper answer as he materializes properly, shotguns in hand. “How did you let this happen?”

“I wouldn’t say I _let_ it happen,” Amelie says. “I recall that you’ve been having greater difficulty than usual since the elder Amari returned as well.”

“I didn’t get captured.”

“No, only very nearly blown up.”

Reaper’s growl echoes across the wire. Ana rolls her eyes.

“Was he always this much of a brat?” Angela leans in and whispers into Ana’s ear, close enough to tickle. Ana snorts and nudges her back with an elbow.

“Where are they?” Reaper asks.

“Not going to free me?”

“Answer the question.”

Amelie jerks her shoulders in some approximation of a shrug. “Scattered. Amari and Soldier 76 were in the middle of quite a fight when they caught wind of your assault, and they cut their losses and ran.”

“Ana was fighting with Jack?”

“Contain yourself, Reaper. I am still tied to a chair, you might notice.”

“You deserve it,” Reaper says. “You failed. I should leave you.”

“Ah, but orders are orders, _non?_ ”

“Unfortunately,” he says, and _finally_ holsters his weapons.

Ana takes the shot, and Gabriel is on the ground before he’s even taken a step forward.

“Impressive, Ana,” Amelie says, shucking the ropes and kneeling to examine Gabriel’s unconscious form. “Not that I am surprised.”

“You flatter me,” Ana says. “We’re on our way. Make sure he doesn’t wake up, and triple check him for hidden weapons.”

“Perhaps I should just strip him of his clothes altogether,” Amelie says, amused.

“If you think he hasn’t found some way to conceal at least four weapons on his person without the aid of clothing, then I envy and pity you in equal measures,” Angela cuts in.

Amelie’s soft laugh chimes across the communicators, and Ana watches a smile flash across Angela’s face and feels a surge of pleasure.

It’s not over. They can still be okay.

 

*

“So the actual plan is what again?” Fareeha asks, dubious.

“Rehabilitation,” Ana says.

“But how? I understand how you managed Widowmaker, that made sense, but Reaper is--he’s--”

“He’s an enormous infant who wants attention,” Ana says. “We’re going to give it to him.”

Amelie smirks. “I can corroborate your mother’s assessment. He yearns for validation, but he is, ah,” she waves her hand, “quite bad at most things, you know, and not particularly in touch with his own emotions. Not entirely his fault, of course; Talon does not encourage such things.”

Fareeha kneads at her forehead. “So in other words, your plan is--”

“To aggressively love him into submission, yes!” Angela beams. “Now settle in, everyone. The sedative is about to wear off, and we have to deal with Jack after this.”

“ _Do_ we?” Fareeha sighs.

“Yes, we do,” Ana says, patting her daughter on the back. “Now no more whining, because I’m certain Gabriel will be doing more than enough of that on his own.”

*

“ _Traitors!_ ” Gabriel is yelling. “You’re all traitors!”

“Considering I was brainwashed into siding with you to begin, I hardly think that’s a fair assessment, _mon ami_.”

“Amelie, that’s not helpful,” Angela chides.

“But it is true,” Amelie says, crossing her arms. “Well, I am _here_ , aren’t I? Because I care for him and such.”

“You don’t care about anyone,” Gabriel says. “You’re _stone_.”

“I _was_ stone, but I refer you once again to the aforementioned _brainwashing_.”

“Get _fucked_ , Widow.”

Fareeha slams her fist against the wall. “Eat _shit_ , Reaper!”

Ana sighs.

*

“Are you hungry?” Angela asks as they watch Amelie and Gabriel attempt, apparently, to throttle each each other.

“I could eat,” Ana says. “Curry?”

“Sure.”

Ana nods and goes to wrestle Gabriel into a headlock.

*

“After we finish eating, I’m going to kill you all,” Gabriel says, and viciously tears off a large piece of _naan_. “I just happen to like the food here.”

“Sure, Uncle Gabriel,” Fareeha says. “Can you pass the spinach?”

He grumbles and pushes the bowl towards her.

“Mercy, are you alright?” Amelie asks, leaning around Gabriel to look at Angela. “You seem to be crying.”

“It’s just really spicy,” Angela says, wiping at her eyes. “Ana, can I have some of your drink?”

“Of course,” Ana says, patting her wrist and passing the _lassi_ over.

“You all disgust me,” Gabriel says.

Ana shrugs. “Fine, I guess we won’t get ice cream then.”

“Uncle _Gabriel_ ,” Fareeha says with a whine that Ana has not heard in twenty years. “You’re ruining it for everybody.”

“Wait,” Gabriel says.

*

“I hate this, and I hate them, and I hate you,” Gabriel says. He’s sitting crosslegged beside Ana on a low wall overlooking a hillside where Amelie and Fareeha are sparring as Angela anxiously attends to the injuries they gleefully inflict upon each other.

“But you like chocolate,” Ana says, nodding to the ice cream he’s holding.

Gabriel huffs. “Everyone likes chocolate.”

*

“It’s late,” Ana says. “Home is just around the corner.”

“Don’t get tired,” Gabriel says, clearly suppressing a yawn. “Gotta fight.”

“Shush, you can fight us later. One versus four and half asleep does not make for the most favorable odds, you know.”

“Should go,” Gabriel says, eyes drooping as Angela smiles at Ana behind his back and takes his arms, gently tugging him in the direction of their current residence.

*

“This apartment is not big enough for five people,” Fareeha announces.

“I don’t live here,” Gabriel says.

“Oh, yeah? Where do you live, then?”

“As if I would tell an agent of Overwatch.”

Angela snorts. “Gabriel, you haven’t left this building once in four days.”

“We really should start charging him rent,” Amelie muses.

Fareeha throws a pillow at her. “You don’t pay rent either! This is why we don’t have an adequate living space. _Freeloaders_.”

*

“Should we _tell_ Jack?” Angela asks as Soldier 76 and Reaper demolish a city square in the efforts to get to each other.

“I don’t know,” Ana says, “do you think they’re ready?”

Angela frowns as a statue falls over, rubble raining down. “Maybe not.”


End file.
